


The Slap Heard 'Round the World

by Ellie226



Category: Glee
Genre: Abuse, Caning, Dom/sub, F/F, F/M, M/M, Past Abuse, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taken from a gleedsm prompt for the one sentence meme: "All the Gleeks' reactions to one of the Dom!Gleeks hitting one of the sub!Gleeks in a moment of frustration. (perfer sub be Finn)." </p><p>I've placed the Gleeks in a D/s universe. Although switches exist, they are rare, so most of the Gleeks are designated as either Dominant or Submissive. Trigger warnings for abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rainn

Finn’s face burned with embarrassment, and he dropped his gaze to the floor. He knew that Rachel had told him to stop talking with Puck about LA, but he had slipped. He wasn’t planning on going anymore; he just wanted to hear about Puck and Lauren’s plans. To be slapped in front of everyone...he couldn’t believe that he pushed her that far, yet again. He was so worthless.

While Finn was lost in his self recrimination, Brit’s hand had stolen toward Santana’s. She slowly edged her chair closer, leaning against her mistress. Santana wanted to slap Rachel across the face; you never hit your sub in anger. But she had to focus on Brittany right now. So instead, she rubbed gentle circles on Brit’s hand with her thumb, smiling at her.

“Say it again,” Brittany murmured to her.

Santana nodded, leaning over to kiss her girlfriend. “I promise. Never.”

Blaine was also more focused on his sub, practically pinning Kurt to his chair. “Not now,” he admonished, voice firm in Kurt’s ear. “I mean it.”

They’d talked on more than one occasion about Kurt’s tendency to mouth off without thinking. As reprehensible as Blaine found Rachel’s actions, it wasn’t going to do them any good if Kurt got hit now. Especially because Blaine knew what his own reaction to his sub being slapped would be.

When Kurt didn’t stop struggling, Blaine swatted the top of one of his legs, “We will find a private room to discuss this if you’re having trouble obeying me.”

That got a response. Kurt did not want to find a private room. Private rooms for discussions, especially on the subject of disobedience, were not good. Settling against the back of his chair, Kurt shook his head no. 

Satisfied that Kurt was going to behave, Blaine smiled at him. “I promise we’ll talk to your dad and Carole later.”

Puck didn’t have his mistress with him. Given the fact that he also liked to act without thinking, it could have ended badly. However, Lauren had decided that maintenance punishments kept him in a better frame of mind, and the weals that the cane had left on him yesterday evening had him shifting. Finn was on his own; the last thing Puck needed was for Mistress to decide that he had disrespected another Domme. Even one she disliked.

Mike had been kneeling at Tina’s feet. It was his day, but he wasn’t so far into subspace that he didn’t glance worriedly at his girlfriend’s face. He knew what scenes like this did to her, after Artie, and he wanted to check in. Make sure she was okay. He caught her eye, and their faces relaxed into relieved smiles. They would never do that to each other. Never.

Artie wasn’t even bothering to watch Finn. And it wasn’t like he had a submissive of his own. Rather, he was watching Tina and Brit, and thinking of all the times he had to punish them for their disobedience. Brit had been relatively easy. She’d settled into her place after a few rounds with a tawse. Tina, on the other hand, was confused. She’d even somehow managed to convince Mike that she could successfully dominate him. 

Even if it was an only once in a while thing, Artie couldn’t believe that Mike would debase himself that way. Tina was clearly just a disobedient submissive. More time with Artie would have taught her that. 

Mercedes had recoiled in her chair, a visceral reaction to seeing the slap. At the same time, she wondered what it had felt like. She would never tell Shane that she still thought about Sam, that she often imagined Sam when she was bound for her new boyfriend and Master. At the same time, she wondered if a slap across the face, brutal and shaming, would make her feel less guilty.

It was Quinn who said something. Whether she was Finn’s Mistress or not, she had been for a long time. She was out of her seat before she even realized that she was up, positioning herself between Finn and Rachel.

Shoving Rachel, she spat, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Livid, Rachel stood her ground. Sniffing, she tossed her hair, “I am disciplining my submissive as I see fit. I’m his Mistress now Quinn. Not you.”

“You don’t strike you submissive in anger,” Quinn argued. It was D/s 101. It didn’t matter how angry you got. As the Dominant, it was your responsibility to remain in control of your emotions and care for the submissive. They may serve you, but you took care of them. That was the trade off.

Rachel’s response shouldn’t have surprised anyone. “He’s mine to discipline. If he doesn’t want to be punished, then he needs to learn to do what he’s told.” She looked around the room, surprised to see the expressions on everyone’s faces. 

“Is that what your contract say?” Quinn asked, her voice icy. “That you can say or do anything you want to him? You shouldn’t put up with this,” she told Finn, turning to face him and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You know this isn’t okay.”

“I disobeyed,” Finn said, voice dull. To be struck in front of everyone was bad enough; now they knew what a disrespectful and disobedient submissive he was. To now have Quinn defending him? It made the embarrassment worse.

“See?” Rachel asked, triumphant. She loved being right. “You have no right to judge the way I decide to do things. It’s none of your business.”

She tried to reach around Quinn to grab Finn’s hand, cursing the fact that she hadn’t made him wear a leash with his collar; it was easier to keep him in line that way, but he had begged. Quinn shifted, preventing her from touching him.

Rather than playing into that game, Rachel simply snapped her fingers loudly, “We’re leaving,” she ordered Finn, turning. She knew he would follow. He wouldn’t want to incur any more punishments than he had earned already.


	2. Klaine Not Blurt

Anderson submissives were expected to act with a bit more decorum than Blaine typically saw in Kurt. It was a source of contention between Blaine and his parents, but he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Kurt was his; beautiful, brilliant, and headstrong. Blaine loved him.

That didn’t mean that there weren’t times when he wished that Kurt would act differently. This was one of those times.

“Kurt,” he admonished softly.

His boyfriend was too engaged in his current rant, pacing and spitting out the details of what they had seen earlier during Glee. Burt and Carole were sitting, watching Kurt. Carole was growing progressively more upset.

Blaine stood up, “Kurt, that’s enough.” They’d discussed how to handle this on their way home, and Kurt had agreed that he would remain calm. 

“But-” Kurt argued, forgetting whom he was talking to.

He was reminded sharply by his boyfriend’s hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him closer. “Enough,” Blaine said firmly, quietly, in Kurt’s ear. 

Kurt was still furious, but he knew that tone, and he really didn’t want to have to discuss things privately. Blaine had promised to not physically discipline him in front of other people, but he wasn’t above the occasional warning smack, and he had no problem removing Kurt from a room. Their friends and family had grown used to the pair leaving somewhere, the sound of Blaine quietly lecturing as Kurt tried to convince him that he didn’t need to be punished echoing as they left.

“I’d like a glass of water please,” Blaine said pleasantly, raising an eyebrow at Kurt.

His submissive clenched his jaw, clearly forcing himself to take several deep breaths. He didn’t want to get Blaine water. He wanted to stay in there and continue explaining all that was wrong with Finchel. Or Rainn, as Rachel often called them, citing the fact that she was the Dominant as the reason that her name had to come first. 

“I just-” he tried to explain, and Blaine shook his head.

“I’m sure Carole would like some tea as well. We’ll wait out here for our drinks.”

Kurt hated that. Blaine wouldn’t spank him in front of other people, but he had his own way of dealing with arguments. If Kurt kept going, he would end up in the kitchen, getting drinks and making a six course meal for all four of them.

He nodded once, turning to leave the room. Politeness be damned, he wasn’t offering to bring anyone else a drink. His dad could take a glass of water and be appreciative.

“I warned you he was headstrong,” Burt said, smiling at Blaine.

That got an eyeroll. It was Blaine’s parents belief that Burt had been far too lenient with Kurt growing up, and that was why the young submissive was so argumentative. Blaine happened to like it. Most of the time. But that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize that Burt let Kurt get away with murder.

“We better talk about this before he gets back out here. He’s not going to settle down unless we have some sort of plan, and we can’t do that if he’s too busy cataloguing what’s wrong with Rachel,” Burt told Blaine.

They settled into their discussion, coming to a consensus as Kurt entered the living room with a tray.

“Thank you,” Blaine told him calmly, taking the water that he was handed. 

Once Kurt had served Burt and Carole, Blaine tugged him down beside him on the couch, offering him a sip of water.

Kurt was quiet. He often was once he had calmed down; he knew that people considered him too mouthy and loud, and he’d been told often enough that no Dominant would want him. Leaning against Blaine, he waited to go upstairs.

“We should go and do our homework,” Blaine explained, standing up. He held out his hand for Kurt, and they went up to his bedroom.

Rather than pulling out their backpacks, Blaine laid down on Kurt’s bed. “Come here,” he instructed quietly.

Kurt hesitantly went to him, relieved to find himself being tucked against his Dom’s side rather than pulled over his lap. Blaine waited; he knew that Kurt would start talking once he was ready.

“I’m sorry that I argued with you and didn’t do what I was told,” Kurt finally murmured. He was. He still thought that he was right, that Rachel was at best ridiculous and uneducated and at worse abusive, but he knew that Blaine loved him. Which meant that Blaine cared about his family, including Finn.

“Thank you for apologizing,” Blaine told him, giving him a kiss. “I know it’s hard sometimes, but we talked about how we were going to discuss this with your dad and Carole, didn’t we?”

Shamefaced, Kurt nodded. He’d just gotten so upset, and he’d become more focused on that than anything else.

“I appreciate that you went and got drinks for us like I asked though,” Blaine praised quietly. “I know you wanted to be involved when we spoke with them, but you need to learn to remember what I’ve told you better, even when you’re upset.”

“Yes Blaine,” Kurt said softly. He knew that Blaine was right. The last thing they needed was for someone to think that Blaine’s claim was insufficient, that he wasn’t a good enough Dominant to keep Kurt in line.

Laying there, Kurt worried his lower lip between his teeth, finally asking, “Am I in trouble?” he cringed a bit. 

He was unused to the discipline that Blaine used. Burt had only very rarely sent Kurt to time out, or removed privileges, and there had been no real punishment in close to five years. Although Kurt loved feeling like the slate was wiped clean, and that Blaine was in control even when Kurt felt like he wasn’t, he still hated being banned from conversations or spanked. 

Blaine kissed Kurt again, “You went and did what I asked earlier. I think that we can let it go at a warning this time.”

Kurt got up onto his knees, leaning over so that he could kiss Blaine more deeply, “Thank you Blaine.” 

It wasn’t just gratitude for escaping a very possibly deserved spanking. After the scene they witnessed earlier, Kurt was reminded how lucky he was that the only thing Blaine asked that Kurt call him was Blaine, and that Blaine always said please and thank you when he asked Kurt to perform a task for him.

“You’re welcome. Come back down and cuddle with me,” Blaine said.

Together, they relaxed in silence for a few minutes, before Blaine asked, “Does it really bother you that much that she insists upon Rainn?”

Kurt rolled his eyes, smiling, “We’re not going by Blurt. I don’t care what you said, Klaine is clearly the superior option.”

“What happened to you trying to do what you’re told?” Blaine teased gently.

“Blurt sounds stupid Blaine.”

With an aggrieved sigh, Blaine said, “Fine.” 

Kurt smiled wider, happy to have a Dom who didn’t mind him being opinionated. Especially when his opinion was so clearly right.


	3. piZes

Puck wasn’t one to say that something was wrong; Lauren knew that. For all of her sarcasm and feigned disinterest, she was an inveterate people watcher, and Noah Puckerman had always fascinated her.

Brilliant yet dumb, he could do calculus problems in his head but forgot the capital of Ohio. He was domineering, yet submissive. And as much as he talked, Puck rarely actually said anything.

After school, she had instructed him to meet her in the gym. He was supposed to drive her home; her parents were in Columbus for the week. She figured they could have some time to play without her mother critiquing her work.

She waited for him. For close to 20 minutes, she sat in the gym, until she finally got fed up. Stalking through the school, she was unsurprised to find him still in the Glee room, calmly tapping out a tune on the piano.

“You were supposed to come and get me Puckerman,” she told him, irritated.

She saw something in his eyes, but he pushed it down. “Got busy,” was his dismissive response.

“Excuse me?” Now Lauren could tell something was wrong. Although he was occasionally mouthy, she’d caned him pretty severely two days earlier. So he had to be pushing for something. Pain slut or not, he wouldn’t be going for another caning any time soon.

“I said I got busy,” Puck said, standing up and crowding her personal space.

Lauren’s response was instantaneous, developed through plenty of trial and error with a headstrong submissive who liked to push rather than feel.

Slapping him across the face, she said, “You’re two days in the cage already Puckerman. Do you want to try for more?”

That got a response. Puck cringed back from her at the slap, eyes dropping submissively to the ground.

“Sorry mistress.”

That was odd. She routinely slapped Puck; he got off on degradation, and there were few things more degrading than being slapped across the face. It was a good way to remind him of his place while still making him crave her.

“What’s wrong with my little whore?” she asked, lifting her hand up to caress the cheek that she had just slapped. Anyone else listening would have thought that Lauren was cruelly teasing, but Puck actually leaned in.

Remembering himself, he backed away again, “I apologize for my disrespect Mistress.” 

It had taken a few times, but Puckerman had learned what she expected, the highly formalized phrases and behavior, and she nodded. 

“You will be. Take me home, and I’ll see what I can do to remind my slut of his place.”

Puck shuddered at the promise in her voice. The old conflict, wanting to not want to be reminded of his place as Mistress referred to it nagged at him, but he pushed the voice down.

“Yes Mistress,” he replied, head still submissively bowed. Taking her bag, he followed Lauren to his car. With her parents out of town, they would have privacy. Not that Lauren’s mom wasn’t a great Domme, but having your girlfriend’s mom demonstrating temperature play was a little kinkier than Puck really wanted. He felt a sense of relief.


	4. Chang Squared

It was Mike’s day. That was the way they thought of it; whoever was subbing, that meant it was their day. However, it had been a bad day, and their relationship was nothing if not flexible and fluid.

Together on Tina’s bed, they were just holding each other. 

“I tried to be good,” she murmured to him. 

Mike nodded, squeezing tighter. It wasn’t the first time they’d talked about this. “I know.”

“I just kept screwing things up, and then he’d get mad, and he’d just snap. Like I’d pushed him too far.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Mike reminded her. It had been months of this. Not that he minded; he could keep telling Tina that it wasn’t her fault for the rest of their lives, if that’s what it took. He loved her. It was just hard sometimes. Especially when he had to deal with Artie at school. 

“His face,” Tina whispered. 

Mike closed his eyes, taking that in. They’d discussed it. When they were first involved, Tina hadn’t told him everything. She hadn’t talked about the tawse, or the impact “play”. Not that it followed any legitimate BDSM guidelines. It was just Artie’s fists, punching Tina as she tried to hold still for him. 

He said that he liked Tina bruised; that marring the perfection that was her skin was his right. The brutal beatings were his compromise since Tina’s parents had balked at his requests for branding or tattoos.

She’d kept quiet about it to them though. Even on the days when it hurt to breathe; Mike was pretty sure that Artie had managed to crack her ribs at least once, and she’d admitted to him that she had blood in her urine on several occasions. 

Her parents had told her that she was supposed to obey; they had raised her to be a good submissive and a good daughter. Artie beating her was supposed to bridge that gap between what he wanted and what they expected.

Even when he started dating Brittany, she didn’t tell anyone. It was her fault. There was something wrong with her. Other submissives learned to simply do what they were told; Tina didn’t understand why she had such a hard time submitting. There had to be something wrong with her. 

She knew that Brittany was a good submissive. At times, Brittany was too good, too docile. She’d just was easily follow a directive from a random man at the mall as she would from Santana.

When Artie and Brittany were together, Tina convinced herself that everything was fine. Brittany was an excellent submissive; Artie had often extolled her virtues as he pummeled Tina.

She hadn’t known. She never would have left it alone if she had genuinely thought that Artie was beating Brittany too. When they were changing in gym class and she saw the fist shaped bruises on Brit, she had said something, pulling the other girl aside.

Haltingly, Brittany had explained that she had upset Artie. He’d told her to make him dinner, and she’d made fondue. She liked fondue; it was romantic. She’d forgotten that Artie was lactose intolerant.

During that discussion, Tina had an easier time realizing that they didn’t deserve it. Later, she would need reminders. But while she was talking to Brittany, she just kept repeating that it wasn’t okay. Especially when the other submissive had cried, telling Tina that she just wanted to do better.

Tina had asked Brittany to steer clear of Artie, promising that they would figure something out. While she was doing that, Artie heard about Santana and Brit’s extracurricular activities. He’d broken it off with her, solving the immediate problem.

“I can’t let someone else go through it,” she told Mike. 

He sighed, wishing that he knew the perfect thing to say. Deciding to focus on the problem at hand, he reassured her, “Blaine said they’d talk to Finn’s mom and Kurt’s dad. They’ll have a plan tomorrow.”

Tina argued, “What if they don’t.”

“It’s not yours to worry about anymore,” Mike told her, hoping that would be enough. He didn’t know what else to tell her.

“It’s not my day.”

“Well, I’m giving you mine,” Mike said firmly.

Tina knew that should make her feel guilty, but the relief was too much to give up.

“You can have tomorrow,” she promised.

Mike smiled, kissing the top of her head, “My good girl.”


	5. Santittany

Her parents had approached Santana’s about arranging a claim to protect her, since Brittany was overly eager to follow the directives of any Dominant she met. Santana’s claim was enough to protect her from the advances of others; the fact that the girls were already best friends just made it easier.

Of course, none of the adults involved had ever thought that the girls were already playing, and neither of the girls realized that they were perfect for each other. That came later. What was supposed to be a simple high school claim, for Brittany’s protection, quickly became something more.

Brit had always comported herself as the perfect submissive. She was eager to please, and her desire to make other people happy made her able to work through pain. The things that made her a good dancer made her an amazing submissive.

Sometimes, people didn’t know their designations until they hit puberty. Santana’s mother swore that she’d known the first time she’d laid eyes on her infant daughter. From the first day of her life, Santana had been a force to be reckoned with. She was nearly impossible to disobey.

Together, the girls brought out the best in each other. A desire to please Santana helped Brit remember to only submit to her Dominant. Santana’s love for Brittany helped smooth her rough edges. They complemented each other perfectly; Brittany could anticipate Santana’s wants and needs, and Santana often knew how to help Brittany without even thinking about it.

The day that Rachel struck Finn publicly, Brittany wanted to serve. When they got to Santana’s home after school, Brit was instantly getting drinks and offering to rub Santana’s feet. Santana allowed Brittany to bustle around the house, getting them both set up on the bed. Then, she beckoned to her.

“Come lie with me,” she instructed quietly.

Brit paused, staring at the place on the floor where she liked to kneel when she was feeling dysregulated. 

Santana sharpened her tone slightly, “I want you to come and lie with me.”

Brittany crawled into bed, babbling apologies. “I’m sorry. I know you said, but I wanted to make you happy, and you like it when I kneel, and-”

Santana cut her off, “What makes me happy right now is lying with you. That’s all.”

Brittany nodded, safe in the curve of Santana’s strong arms. They lay together silently for a while, listening to the music that was playing softly.

“You just want to lay here?” Brit finally asked.

Santana nodded, “Unless you have something else you’d like to do?”

“I want to make you happy.”

“What would make you happy though?” Santana prodded gently.

Brit sat up, clearly agitated, “I like it when I do stuff that you like. That’s what makes me happy. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Artie said.”

“Okay okay. Shhh,” Santana reached for Brit, pulling her back down. “Artie was wrong. What you want to do matters. I’m not saying that I’m always going to tell you yes, but I want to know what you want.”

Brit bit at her lip, finally saying, “She hit him ‘tana.”

Santana nodded, stroking Brittany’s arm. “She hit him. Blaine said he’d take care of it, and you know that Kurt won’t let him forget. They’re going to talk to Burt and Carole today.”

“Okay,” Brit whispered. “She hit him though.”

“She’s not going to do it again,” Santana said resolutely. “You don’t even have to worry about it because it’s not ever going to happen again. I promise.”

“How do you know?” Brittany asked quietly.

Santana hugged her tightly, “Don’t worry about how I know. I’m telling you that you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Yes ‘tana,” Brit said quietly, relaxing for the first time since that afternoon. If Santana said everything was going to be okay, then everything was going to be okay. Regardless as to whether it was though, she wasn’t going to worry.


	6. Quinn

After dinner, Quinn laced up her running shoes. Taking care to wear the bracelet on her left arm so nobody mistook her for an unclaimed submissive (a common enough occurrence, even though all the science from the last thirty years clearly demonstrated that submission was not a sex linked trait), she took off.

As she settled into an easy rhythm, she considered what had happened that day, and everything that had happened before it.

Sleeping with Puck had been a mistake. Quinn knew it even as she was doing it. Puck was just...so not what her parents wanted for her. And she liked that. Her dad was always criticizing everything, and Quinn had wanted a little rebellion. She hadn’t intended to get pregnant.

When Finn found out he wasn’t the father, he broke off their claim. High school claims were mostly for practice, but it still hurt. Moreso when she saw him with Rachel Berry. But she had moved past that. Mostly. He had seemed happy with Rachel, and despite how things had ended, Quinn would always have feelings for Finn.

But today...it wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Rachel had never publicly slapped Finn, but they had all seen cracks in their relationship. Quinn had tried to convince herself that they weren’t there because she didn’t want anyone thinking she was jealous of Rachel Berry.

She continued running, considering what had happened. She loved Finn. She wasn’t in love with him, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care. Something had to be done. 

As she was thinking that, she realized that she had somehow run all the way to the Hudmel house. Stopping, she considered it. She’d been there before; everyone in Glee Club had. Finn’s mom was great, and Kurt’s dad seemed pretty cool. She wanted to go in and talk to them, but Blaine had sworn that he and Kurt would take care of it.

Squaring her shoulder, she continued on her run. As much as she loved Finn, he wasn’t hers anymore. She had to trust that someone else would take care of this.


	7. Artie On His Own

Artie lay alone in his bed that night, listening to his father through the wall, the sounds of fists hitting flesh.

Curled onto his side, he imagined the look on finn’s face. It wasn’t as good as it could be. That face, the expression that meant a submissive had been reminded of its place. It always made Artie hard. He wished that it had been tina though. brittany was too easy to break. tina had always been a challenge. It made things more interesting. It didn’t matter though; even if Artie didn’t want to Dominate a man, any time he saw a Dominant exercising their rights to a submissive, it was good.

He thought of the look on tina’s face as he would punch her. Never the face. You never hit the face. Other people wouldn’t understand. It was one of the first things his father had taught him after the accident, when Artie had begun learning how to properly discipline a submissive. 

It had been hard at first; hitting his father’s submissive seemed wrong. Over time though, he realized that it was his duty and his right. She would never learn without punishment.

The best of any punishment was at the beginning, when a submissive would still fight the punishment. As things progressed, and the submissive learned more, it always struggled less. Never failed; that was the way it worked for all submissives. 

Artie took his cock in his left hand. Grabbing the lube from his bedside drawer, he began stroking himself in time with the sound of his father beating the submissive, imagining the look on its face.

Artie flipped through images in his mind. The first time he left a good bruise on his father’s submissive. The look on tina’s face the first time she realized that she had no control over the situation. The way brit still averted her eyes when Artie gave her the look. 

As Artie came, spurting over his hand, he smiled. He’d been half-hard since Rachel had slapped finn after school. He’d needed that.


End file.
